If grief is an ocean, memories are the inescapable waves.

Both radiated an aura of warmth and comfort that defined our family home. The warmth and strength they brought to our lives were incomparable.

I pondered hard, standing there,

In silence, thick and sweet,

Did she know my inner wear,

My heart's restless beat?

Lost both my guides, my stars, my light,

Not once but twice the pain,

Their leaving turned my day to night,

My loss, their unseen gain.

They stood like giants, strong and tall,

Beyond my parents' reach,

Their passing felt like a great wall,

Had fallen on my beach.

A generation gone, it seems,

My soul feels slightly torn,

Their presence in my nightly dreams,

Makes me feel less forlorn.

But warmth remains, from days long past,

Their love a quilted throw,

In memories that always last,

In hearts that miss them so.

Without aunt pointing me to that shelf back in 2021, I’d have missed the state those precious photographs were in.

I had this photo of two people old enough to be grandparents, so simply put, call them grandparents. It was their only photo, and I needed to bring just the two of them out of it because there was another person between them. About 1.5 hours of 3D images and Microsoft Paint editing, if I’m remembering right, gave me this small monochromatic moment with a few flowers and trees in orange, violet, pink and green. One person’s hand wasn’t hardly positioned that way in the photo. The person in between affected its position, unlike the other hand. I wanted the two of them to have that wholesomeness between them, so a few 3D objects did the job. Haven’t done anything like this for my very own grandparents :-) It came out of the blue. No obligation. I went for it myself, perhaps without consciously deciding that I was going to. Ekkado runamundilae :-) All you give, get and feel is love, and I feel that way about saving old memories too, digitization and everything around it. Scratched CDs, unreadable portions and those moments where even the salvageable bits don't make it easier for me to save them can hurt, but that’s how it goes.

I remember an old lady sitting beside me after I’d spent more than a few hours there, stuck in the whole scenario and pretty disappointed by the experience. Seeing her made me happy for some reason, I felt like talking to her, and we did. And wait, yes, she was 75. Her elder child came there with her, and she said she was going to visit her younger one soon. She spoke with so much empathy about the kinds of environments people grow through over the years. A few words came up about loneliness too, that phase of life and the silent ways it tests us mere mortals. We spoke about my love for the good ol’ ones, recent life experiences, what she thought of people our age and whatever advice came with it. A short conversation about all the unbalanced factors life throws around. Short & sweet.

And hey, fun fact: I didn’t really know her language. All I knew was that it sounded close enough to Hindi for us to have a convo :D

‘Just set the blown fuse right, what’s there to fume for?’ Great line-drawing art. Offbeat. Not deadbeat, but just not the right combination with you out here. That’s like a real still river in its deepest section, made up of care and compassion, sometimes seeming callous. Someone’s been containing it all while staying tangled in their own world on tippy toes to see each other. Can never ask for that peesaa anymore. Now that she’s gone, you want none. Nothing ain’t alive anymore. You sure are, nonetheless. You know what's lost in all of this. You've had my good moments, cherished them even. You were a baby though. You wish you had her back home and made more and more collectively healthy memories. She could have witnessed your moments by being an active part of your growth.

If sadness is my plateau, the steepness is the misery. The leaves can and will be dead, but the tree grows again, though the fragrance is too foreign this time.

Person 1 : In the wake of her passing, I was swamped by an ocean of tears. I didn't fully grasp why I cried so much. I had always hoped she'd spend more time here. I vividly remember leaving a note behind her elder child’s cherished photograph, a memento of a life taken too soon.

Person 2 : I also recall my eager anticipation to install glass doors, holding onto the hope that she would visit. Our love for her was boundless.

Person 3 : It’s true. We treated her with the love I can't define and can only refine. I've been with her all my life. It makes me wonder, can you even imagine what it would have been like if she was still here with us?

There are many reasons a person can refuse to cry: sadness trying to stay quiet, carelessness saying, “Who would know anyway?”, shame whispering, “What kind of example would I be?”, image-obsession pretending “I can do no wrong”, responsibility, saying “This is mine to carry. Even if I am the only one, I will still carry it.” Don’t keep pressing where someone is already bruised. The right words matter. So do the time, place, reason, and way in which they are spoken. Don’t cry because someone has cornered you into breaking. Cry only when the body needs release, when the heart is ready, and when the tears belong to you.

Fear is a basic human tendency. It can appear as anger, doubt, rage, betrayal, disgust, restlessness, jealousy, inadequacy, inhibition, insecurity, and cowardice. It has many shades. If a person is leading others, or carrying something larger than themselves, fear can spread through the whole space. In a kingdom, the most fearful person is the one with the most power to hide it.